All The Pieces
by newlegacies
Summary: They'd broken up, and she wanted to pick up all the pieces.


**A/N: so i got really fuckin emotional during falling for...who? and here's the product. caution: this was done at midnight and whilst sobbing over everything so expect this to be really gooey with feelings. enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own IDDI.**

* * *

 _I drew a broken heart  
Right on your window pane  
Waited for your reply  
Here in the pouring rain_

: :

There had always been something special about Logan Watson. She'd been obsessed with him, and he had been obsessed right back. The boy was charming, flirtatious, yet frustrating and oblivious. He was the only boy who knew how to pick her up and put her down.

Nevertheless, he was a boy. A boy in which she allowed to slip between her fingertips.

To be honest, she'd always known that keeping a boy like him would be complicated. A boy with so much history had to be treaded lightly with. It was so hard to keep them together because they'd already taken each other for granted ages ago.

Jasmine turned to the other side on her bed, groaning softly. She wanted nothing more than just to be with him again, to talk with him, to have the light feeling in her chest whenever he smiled. She ached all over because of his withdrawal - or rather, her withdrawal.

It was clear: she missed him more than she could ever express. Logan had turned a cold shoulder on her ever since The Incident, and it was all she could do to restrain herself from apologizing over and over to him, chasing him through the hallways, repeatedly calling his name. But the way he glanced at her was so full of pain and hurt, she just didn't have the heart to talk to him.

Jasmine picked up her phone and stared at the LED-lit screen, flashing 11:11. _Make a wish,_ she thought to herself dejectedly.

She wished she could go back in time and take back her stinging words. She wished she could've wiped clean the look of hurt on his face when she had made those stupid, drunk decisions. She wished that he would come back and forgive her, to at least talk to her.

But Jasmine knew that he would never make the first move. He never did, and in this situation, she understood why. She was the one who called them off. She was the one who refused to listen. He was just the bystander.

She picked up her phone. Maybe it didn't have to be this way. If she just texted him to meet up with her, there was a chance he would listen to her. Even if he didn't forgive her, he deserved to know how she felt about the situation.

Finally, in a quick, decisive move, Jasmine texted him to meet her at the nearby diner in five. It was too late it back out; it had delivered right as she pressed send.

A sharp stab of nostalgia and pain hit her as she saw the previous texts, filled with heart emojis and inside jokes. It was too hard to look at them any longer, so she turned off her phone, shrugged on a jacket, and snuck out of the house.

It was a cold night. The air stung at Jasmine's cheeks as she walked to her destination. Halfway there, she realized that even if Logan didn't show up, she was going to stay the the rest of the night anyways. That was the use of laying in bed if she wasn't going to fall asleep?

Her screen stayed dark. She went to her messages anyways, to see that it was read.

Yet no reply.

Closing her eyes, she followed her feet to the diner.

: :

She remembered it all clearly. Or rather, more in fragments and haze.

She was at a party. Her friends spent a girl's night there and Jasmine and Logan had recently gotten out of an argument. She was sulking by herself because everyone else was on the dance floor, and after eight shots she decided that she was more than a little tipsy.

Suddenly a handsome man dropped in front of her and offered to buy her a drink. Somehow, she'd ended up pouring out her feelings to him and Logan, and he was comforting her so sweetly and gently. Before she knew it they were kissing.

Jasmine had pulled away first, scared that someone would see the and tell Logan. But it was too late. Logan had somehow found Jasmine at the bar and saw them kiss and stood there, a couple yards away from them.

His clothes were soaking wet. He looked shocked beyond belief. And Jasmine felt like throwing up.

Logan had run off, and Jasmine blindly stumbled after him, out of the bar and into the pouring rain. He was power walking to his truck, and Jasmine hurriedly caught up to him.

She grabbed his hand, slick and cold from the rain. "Logan, it wasn't what it looked like!"

He turned to look at her, his eyes so full of betrayal and misery. He paused in his footsteps, and his gaze searched inside of her.

"Jasmine..." he said helplessly, his voice cracking.

She could feel her heart beat in her throat. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

He let go of her hand, turned back around and ran to his truck. Rain dripped down her face and mixed with her tears.

: :

It had been nearly a hour since Jasmine slouched into the diner booth and waited for his arrival. She was starting to give up hope on his ever coming, and stood up to leave, ignoring her plans to stay the whole night.

It was raining outside. Her heart ached like an old wound in the cold. It was just her in her black dress and sweater. She couldn't find it in her to cry. It was too ironic.

Jasmine stood for a couple minutes, just staring into the distance, thinking about nothing, when a truck pulled up. And it looked oddly familiar.

A tall blond emerged from the car. He approached her.

Logan Watson.

Panic gave her a sudden jolt. She swiveled quickly toward him without meaning to, and her heart beat faster.

His hands were shoved deep in his jeans pockets. His shirt clung to the flat muscles across his stomach. His face was unreadable.

He walked straight up to her.

They stared at each other for a long time, until Logan finally spoke.

"You wanted to see me?"

The sound of his voice after a long three weeks immediately thawed her heart and her anger, and her knees felt weak.

He didn't know how much she missed him.

"Yes."

They were quiet. Jasmine basked in his presence, secretly relieved that he decided to come.

"What did you want to say?" he said slowly, carefully, like a loaded gun.

"What I want to say was..." Jasmine swallowed before continuing. "This was my fault. I was upset and confused and drunk and dumb. The guy played me right into his hands. I want you to know that..."

Her voice was now shaking. Rain blurred her vision, and she struggled to continue. She let out a ragged breath.

"Know what?" Logan asked softly. His voice was husky.

 _Deep breath_.

"I want you to know that I still want you. I think about you everyday and it's ripping me to pieces. I miss your smile and your laugh and your touch and it's driving me crazy. You don't know what you do to me, Logan. I hate that whenever I see a couple walking down the street or roses or shit I think of you. I love you, and I hate it, but I still love you and I always will."

There was silence, except for the steady pitter-patter of water droplets hitting the sidewalk. Jasmine could finally see clearly again, and the look in Logan's eyes was intense and full of something like love. Only it wasn't possible. Logan could not possibly love Jasmine, especially after what happened.

"Jasmine..."

And it was the same exact thing he said before.

"I love you," Jasmine said again, firmly, because it was true.

He stepped in close to her. His fingers tilted her head up toward him with the most gentle touch she'd ever felt from him - hell, from _anyone_ \- and in a second he'd closed his eyes and leaned in and kissed her. And the kiss was soft and slow and apologetic, saying, _I forgive you, I believe you, don't ever do that to me again._ Jasmine's heart felt full, and finally, _finally_ , she was complete again.

They pulled back, breathless, his hand still around her hip, his fingers still angling her face toward his, her fingers still intertwined behind his neck. There was a new light in his eyes as he said, "I love you, Jasmine Kang, and don't ever think for a second that I'll ever let you go again."

To her horror, she was crying, and Logan wiped away a tear with one hand, the other still clutching her waist, and it seemed like was truly afraid to let her go again. Their bodies were pressed up against each other, and Jasmine felt warmer than she had in a long time, never mind the rain.

"So you think we can pick up the pieces?" Logan asked, his free hand caressing her wet hair.

"Sure," Jasmine agreed, "all the pieces."

He leaned down and kissed her again.


End file.
